Pale Gangsta
by Mimeo Robin
Summary: Mickey shows his devotion to Ian Gallagher AKA The Suicide Squad one shot that came out of nowhere (Rated M because I guess?)


_*This story was heavily inspired by Suicide Squad, focusing mainly on Harley and The Joker's intense scene in the factory/warehouse/thing._

 _There are more notes at the end, so check that out afterwards!*_

* * *

Mickey looked up at the decaying orange ladder warily as he ran a hand through his inky black hair. He would definitely get tetanus from this. Adjusting his thick-rimmed black frames on his face, he didn't even realize he had sighed, involuntarily.

"Second thoughts?" A salacious voice dripped from behind him, sending shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes as the sound warmed him up from the inside, making his chest pound. It was his favorite sound in the world, he decided, as he turned towards the source.

Fiery red hair slicked back with just a little too much gel, black shadow and eyeliner was smothered around his gorgeous green eyes, which were staring intensely back at him.

Ian Gallagher. Or Jerome, he sometimes preferred to call himself, depending on his mood.

"No, no second thoughts." Mickey assured with more determination, as he marched closer to the ladder and grabbed the first rung, some of the coating flicking away between his fingers.

A few minutes later they were standing on a corroded metal platform. Below them, six enormous vats of bubbling chemicals were staring back at them. Ian stood as if he owned the place, hands on his grey clothed hips. His black suit jacket was deliciously disheveled covering his dark purple shirt that was only half buttoned. Rugged tattoos peeked from the opening, showing Ian's perfectly pale skin. There were scratchy "HA!HA!HA!" tattoos on his left pectorals, while the tip of a jester hat peeped out from the right.

"Give me your coat, Mickey."

Mickey immediately obeyed, pulling his white lab coat off and folding it a little before handing it to Ian. He pulled a stray white string from his dark blue button up, and nervously smoothed down his black dress pants. Ian smiled a little, before chucking the coat blindly somewhere behind them.

Mickey," Ian said softly. Mickey could listen to Ian saying his name all day , he'd never get tired of it. "I need to ask you something, and I need an absolute honest answer, understand?"

Mickey nodded vigorously. But that wasn't enough for Ian.

Shaking his head, he moved closer to Mickey, taking his face gently in his hands."Do you understand, Mickey?" He asked again, sternly this time.

Mickey gasped a little, before nodding again. "Yes."

Ian smiled again, showcasing his silver canines. Stepping back, he ran his hands through his hair, tucking a red strand that had escaped.

"Would you die for me?"

Mickey didn't miss a beat.

"Yes."

Ian just stared back, observing Mickey's face for a moment. Then he shook his head, walking around for a few steps while he peered down at his dark brown loafers, as if they had all of life's questions answered.

"Nonono..." He seemed to be muttering to himself in thought.

Mickey slightly panicked, opening his mouth to apologize, promise, say anything to make Ian believe him. Of course he would die for Ian, he fucking _loved_ him. He would kill- has killed- for him. Anything that made Ian happy, made Mickey happy.

Ian came back around this time, walking until their faces were inches from each other.

"No, see..." Ian looked at the vats below for a second. "That's too easy."

Mickey gazed back, unsure of what that meant.

"No..." Ian mumbled, eyes lazily making their way back to Mickey's face. "Would you live for me?"

Mickey inhaled shakily. "Yes." He answered, trembling.

Ian held one finger up. "Careful," he said, raising his eyebrows in warning. "Do not say this oath... Thoughtlessly." He sang out the last word, as if to say "nuh-uh-uh".

He reached up towards Mickey's face, placing his hand over his mouth. Ian's neon mouth tattoo flashed from the back of his hand, the jagged teeth grotesquely stretched into a sinister smile, replacing Mickey's mouth. He ran his fingers gently down Mickey's face, before using his index finger to trace his full lips.

"Do you want this?" Ian hissed, eyes fixated on Mickey's lips.

"Yes." Mickey responded so quietly he could barely hear himself.

"Ooooohh say it, say it..." Ian panted, rolling his head back in ecstasy. He gazed into Mickey's eyes again, deeply. "Say it... Pretty pretty pretty pretty-"

"Please?" Mickey squeaked out, overstimulated from the way Ian was caressing his face. There were trails of fire rising across his cheeks, chin, neck... Everywhere Ian touched it seemed to adhere to Mickey's skin and intensify to the point where it burned.

Ian smiled, moaning. "Ohhhh Mickey... you're so _good!_ " He stepped back, his eyes slowly trailing back towards the tubs of chemicals below.

They were bubbling up, popping at the surface, seemingly winking at Mickey, who was standing at the edge. He took a few breaths as he watched the mixture, a pale green/yellow color with the consistency of mucus. He exhaled deeply, before swiveling around to face his voice of reason.

Ian gawked back, chest heaving and red lips were parted slightly. His hands hung by his sides, digits marginally twitching.

Mickey's lips twitched up the corners, smirking. He was going to please Ian so much right now. After this there would be no way for him to not believe him. He would die for him. Live for him. Kill for him. Anything. Ian was worth _every single thing._

Spreading his arms out eagle style, he tipped backwards until he felt his body completely leave the platform.

The building was an entire blur on his way down. All he could see were trapezoid-shaped windows on the ceiling, covered in yellow film, probably from the fumes. Then a rush of dusty blood orange, rust, which seemed to cover every available surface in this dilapidated building.

Mickey didn't panic. He didn't have any second thoughts. His only feeling was pleasure, joy swelling up in his chest as he finally breached the vat, head first, with a loud splash.

God Ian was going to be so proud of him.

* * *

At the surface, one could see that Ian was strolling away from the scene before Mickey even hit the chemicals. But he stopped when he heard the splash.

He hesitated for a moment, looking at the ladder. His shoulders tensed up, rising and falling as he seemed to be fighting himself internally. His fists clenched and unclenched as he sighed heavily, squeezing his eyes shut. Then he looked up to the ceiling, releasing an aggressive snarl before shaking his head and swirling back around.

He peeled off his suit jacket, revealing tan leather holsters strapped across his upper body. Ian's face was blank and stony as he leapt off the side of the platform, into the tub of chemicals.

* * *

Sticky. Uncomfortable. Numbing.

This is all Mickey felt now, as he floated in the chemicals, holding his breath and squeezing his eyes closed as tight as he possibly could.

Mickey faintly recalled times when he would pore over his computer late at night, in his dark office with floor to ceiling windows, obsessively drowning himself in Ian's files. The office temperatures would get to what felt like below freezing, but Mickey, not wanting to miss a single drop of information, would just pull his lab coat tight around him and sit on his hands. It was only when he would push his sliding glasses back into position that he would notice there was almost no feeling in his hands, just a slight, buzzing prickly sensation.

That's how Mickey's whole body was feeling right now. Also his nose hairs were burning, they were probably completely gone.

Before he could assess any further, something hooked under his waist and was yanking him towards the surface.

Gasping for air, Mickey used his thumbs to wipe the gooey chemicals from his eyelids. They felt like they would stick to his face if he opened them too much, but he smiled widely as he saw his savior.

Ian was gazing back at him, his hair clumped together with the goop making them stick every which way. Some of the substance was slowly sliding down his neck. He had one arm around Mickey's upper back, the other supporting his legs, bridal style. Huffing, the sides of his mouth curled up into an almost manic grin as he leaned in.

It was a gentle kiss, light and quick, and Ian pulled back up swiftly to inspect Mickey. The grin on his face slowly faded away, as he seemed to analyze him, studying his features.

Mickey leaned up for another kiss, the electrifying feeling quickly becoming addictive, but suddenly Ian threw his head back, and began cackling. The high pitched sound bounced off the walls of the structure, Mickey swelling with pride figuring he had satisfied Ian. He gaped at Ian above him, the red lips stretched out to impossible proportions across his face as he kept up with his laughter, nearly howling.

His eyes slowly traveled across the bubbling liquid, which was now swirling with blue and pink, presumably from the dye of their shirts. He felt Ian tighten his hold around his shoulders, making his body tremble with excitement as he got impossibly closer to the redhead.

Glancing back up, he saw Ian also looking at the mixture surrounding them with a malicious glint in his eyes. Mickey's skin had gotten even paler, if that was even possible, nearly translucent. His hair also quickly lost its color, his roots the only strands that were remotely dark, while the rest of his hair was practically white.

As the pair observed the scene around them, they both knew that the other could feel it. The satisfaction.

Even if it was for completely opposite reasons.

* * *

*HI GUYS!

Putting aside the reviews on this movie, I just really enjoyed this scene and OHMYGOD THE MUSIC. I listened to "Gangsta" by Kehlani the _entire_ time I wrote this, I just love the beat of it soooo much. It's so intense, and I thought it summed up not only the Suicide Squad relationship, but also Ian and Mickey's relationship in the show.

Tell me what you think! Feedback gets me going!

Thanks for reading!*


End file.
